American Ranger Pages

Friday, June 29, 2007

"I was born in the shadow of the Kurdish flag in Mahabad and I am ready to serve and die for the same flag."

Massoud Barzani, President of Kurdistan

It was July of 2004 when my team traveled to northern Iraq from Baghdad’s Green Zone. Our mission was to escort our “principal”, Brigadier General Charles “Sandy” Davidson, to Kurdistan. Here is what I wrote about the experience:

"The heat on the dusty hill overlooking the northern Iraqi border was unpleasant, but it was better than melting in Baghdad. Along with the general and the rest of the C.O.B.R.A. Team, I looked out on a river junction that twisted like some wild blue snake through the desert. I could glance north across one river and barely see a Turkish army guard tower in the distance. When I turned to face the other river, the barren desert hills of Syria rose before me.

The trip from Mosul in a Blackhawk helicopter took us over a giant blue lake, over dry open desert, and through remote hills and valleys. Finally, we reached an isolated border outpost, the northern-most Iraqi military position in what the people there knew as Kurdistan.

Protecting us from that point on would be the Peshmerga (which means 'those ready to die'), the Kurdish warriors who had protected their own people for almost sixty years. (Above photo is me with two of the Peshmerga soldiers.)

General Davidson wanted to visit some of his soldiers, but he also wanted to meet some of the Kurdish people those soldiers worked with and view some of the civil affairs projects created by the members of his command. The soldiers on the small civil affairs teams were making friends and making a difference as they tried to improve the quality of life for a courageous and unique group of Iraq’s citizens.

Our tour of the outpost ended with a convoy of NTVs headed east because this part of our journey was overland. Though we were still guarding the general, the Peshmerga were guarding all of us.

Driving over paved roads and mountain trails, we stopped briefly at a Kurdish village where General Davidson and his officers shared refreshments with the leaders of the small community. We continued on to Dohuk where we spent the night in a 'safe house' protected all the while by the Peshmerga.

I found great comfort in standing on the roof of this house and surveying the beauty of the mountains that surrounded us. In such a peaceful place, filled with an overwhelming sense of tranquility, it was hard to believe there was a war going on. Some of the Peshmerga soldiers said the Arab insurgents had a difficult time making inroads in Kurdistan because they were easily recognized by the Kurds.

Traveling with the soldiers of the Peshmerga was a young man whose name still cannot be revealed without putting his life in danger. At the age of only 19, he had already spent over a year working as an interpreter for the Americans. Born in Kurdistan, but raised in California, he was proud to be both an American and a Kurd. When the United States invaded Iraq, destiny called and he returned to his first home to help defeat the regime of Saddam Hussein.

The young man liked to repeat a saying we heard frequently in Kurdistan: 'Ten Kurds will die before one American dies'. The Kurdish people loved Americans and they were happy to treat soldiers, as the interpreter said, like 'rock stars'. They would die for their American friends and they did everything they could to keep our soldiers out of harm’s way.

There was still resentment reserved for Britain, however, for failing to give the Kurds their own nation when the British Empire carved up the Arab lands early in the twentieth century.

With the help of the young interpreter, the C.O.B.R.A. Team shared conversation and food with the men of the Peshmerga. We came to know and respect them as fellow soldiers and as just plain regular guys. All of us spoke of our families, our homes and our children. Just as I discovered with the Shiite and Sunni Arabs I came to know, the Kurdish people also wanted peace, a safe place to raise their families, a decent way to make a living and a good future for their children.

The Kurds endured a life of prejudice, discrimination and violence under the regime of Saddam Hussein. March 16, 1988, is referred to as 'Bloody Friday' because this was the day that Hussein’s forces dropped poisonous gas on the Kurdish city of Halabja. According to our Kurdish friends, some five thousand citizens, mostly women and children, were killed within only minutes and tens of thousands more perished after days of attacks.

The American policy was that separate 'militias', such as the Peshmerga and al Sadr’s Mahdi Army, must be disbanded. Although the Kurdish leadership supposedly agreed in principal, the Peshmerga soldiers laughed. There was certainly no indication that the Mahdi Army or the other militias in the southern part of the country would disappear any time soon. The Peshmerga warriors also didn’t believe their own fabled army would cease to exist either.

Many of them had been in the Kurdish army since they were twelve years old, it was the only life they knew and the Peshmerga diligently served as the protection for their fellow citizens. The Kurds were a friendly, gentle people, but upon entering the towns and villages of northern Iraq, one thing was plainly missing.

The Iraqi flag wasn’t flown anywhere. The Kurds proudly displayed their own banner, the Kurdistan tri-color of red, white and green with a bright sun glowing in the center. In the new Iraq, the Kurdish people lived with a wait and see attitude for the time being.

As we traveled across the top of Iraq through the towns, villages and cities of Kurdistan, I was amazed by the extraordinary beauty of it all. We saw picturesque mountains and valleys, gently flowing rivers and a waterfall recreation area that seemed out of place in a country at war.

Both adults and children waved and smiled at us and we were greeted everywhere like long-lost relatives. I was never treated this way by the citizens of any foreign country and it helped me to imagine how American soldiers in World War II felt when they were welcomed into liberated European countries.

On our second night, we stayed at the guest house of Kurdish President Massoud Barzani of the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP). His late father, Mustafa Barzani, was the most prominent Kurdish national leader in their recent history and, according to the Peshmerga, he was considered the father of modern Kurdistan and an inspiration to all the Kurdish people. As we traveled throughout northern Iraq, Mustafa Barzani’s picture was hanging everywhere.

The next day we escorted the general to what the Americans considered the Peshmerga 'Pentagon' or the headquarters of their military forces. General Davidson met with one of their generals, we were all served refreshments and the two generals exchanged gifts. Davidson gave his counterpart one of his commanding general’s coins; the Peshmerga general gave Davidson a Kurdistan flag.

As we reached the final city of our visit, Erbil, we drove through the six thousand year old massive stone citadel that overlooks the city from a giant hill. The Peshmerga took care of us right up to the time we boarded our Blackhawk helicopters for the long and arduous flight back to the Green Zone. I was sad to be leaving such a peaceful and beautiful place.

Before we climbed onto the helicopters, the young interpreter reached up to his shoulder and pulled off his Kurdistan flag patch and gave it to me. I was grateful to receive such a special gift from one of America’s - and Kurdistan’s - bravest citizens.

When we returned from our trip to northern Iraq, I brought back a small piece of paper I found on a table in the waiting area of Mosul’s Civil Military Operations Center. That building was filled with Iraqi civilians who were working with the Americans.

The spelling and grammar are the way the note was written, apparently from the heart, as it referred to the American turn-over of authority to the new Iraqi government:

'To day the CPA has handover the sovereignty to the Iraqis. As an Iraqi I feel so happy, but I have to say that all Iraqis owe much for the brave, the Americans, who have shed bloods for free, peaceful and democratic Iraq. Salute for all the brave Americans and all that cooperate with them to achieve this Noble goal,

Long live freedom, Long live freedom fighters,Long live the USA The leader of liberty in the world.'

It was signed simply: 'Iraqi'

At least one Iraqi thought enough of America’s sacrifices to write it down. If there was one Iraqi that felt this way, then there were ten; if there were ten, then there were a hundred and perhaps thousands.

We were indeed appreciated by some of the citizens of Iraq and it made me feel damn good."

Friday, June 15, 2007

It’s always been hard for me to agree with a Democrat, even when he’s only “sort of” a Democrat. Independent/former Democrat Joe Lieberman is on the money when he says a military strike against Iran should be considered in response to that rogue nation’s support of attacks on Americans in Iraq.

I would argue that the same reasoning justifies attacks on training areas/safe havens in Syria and Pakistan. While it’s probably not a great idea to advertise such an option, we are at a crossroads in the world where everyone with their head in the sand must look at the reality that is facing us.

Iran is not going to change, they are still developing their nuclear capability and they will not stop their support of terrorists and insurgents who are killing our soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan. Furthermore, the mouthpiece for Iran’s ayatollahs, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, is advertising the belief that the end times are near and that Israel should be wiped off the map.

Iran is not the only problem. Syria continues to support and protect the Iraqi Sunni insurgents who hide out across the border in their own camps. The government in Pakistan is either too afraid of the terrorists in their tribal areas or they are accommodating them for other reasons. As a result, the terrorist camps in these other countries are like nests of bees, creating new killers with assembly line efficiency. (Above photo is from Reuters.)

Syria, Iran and the tribal areas of Pakistan are the Laos and Cambodia of this war. During Vietnam, the North Vietnamese enemy used those adjacent countries to train, recruit and re-supply the forces that fought us in South Vietnam. The anti-war crowd never complained about their use of those countries, but the minute the American military entered Cambodia to attack enemy camps along the Ho Chi Minh Trail we were referred to as “invaders”.

It is incomprehensible that we can continue to permit Iran or Syria to train, equip and perhaps accompany terrorist killers who attack American troops in Iraq or Afghanistan. We also must end the ability of Al Qaeda and the Taliban to have a safe haven in Pakistan.

Although large-scale ground invasions are unrealistic, targeted air strikes would do much to destroy the capabilities in these training camps. If Syria, Iran and Pakistan will not eliminate these safe havens, then we have no choice but to do it ourselves.

We owe it to the men and women who are fighting the terrorists and we certainly owe to the ones who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

I owe an apology to those who have been faithfully reading “American Ranger”. My most recent mission has been to mobilize soldiers who are headed to one of the war zones. I’ve been out of the loop for awhile.

When I was first assigned this mission, I was pleased that I would work with the commander of the unit because I served with him in a previous assignment. He is now a major waiting to be promoted to lieutenant colonel. He is also a West Point graduate, a combat veteran and one helluva leader.

For obvious reasons, I’m not able to discuss the specifics of the unit including the names of its members. I can tell you that I almost joined them in their mission.

The major had a vacancy for an operations sergeant and needed an E-7 with experience. I was honored that he asked me to take the position.

I knew my unit might not release me again (because they have a lot of training commitments on the horizon.) The major made his own inquiries and came back with the same answer: No, they would not let me go.

I have already been through this before and expected that this would be the case once again. Although I would prefer one more tour in one of the war zones, it will probably not happen at this point. I am a soldier and I will follow my orders.

The sad part is that the soldier ordered to fill the position is an E-6 who has already been to war. He and his wife have a new baby and, although he would prefer to stay home right now, he is a professional and he has embraced his mission.

As I have watched these soldiers prepare for their deployment, I am once again filled with a deep sense of pride. Some of them are relatively new to the Army and they have that wide-eyed look of those who are about to face real IEDs and bad guys. They ask a lot of questions and, fortunately, this old soldier has a lot of answers.

Even more importantly, I feel an obligation to help them understand the importance of teamwork, professionalism and the need to learn everything they can about the real world of war – before they arrive in the war zone. They seem to have taken this to heart and they are like sponges as they absorb the knowledge and training necessary for the greatest adventure of their lives.

Fortunately, they have some hard-core veterans with them – soldiers who know what war is all about and who have taken these youngsters under their wings. It’s always been that way.

In my first war, my best teacher was my platoon sergeant. He is the one who taught me how to read trails in Vietnam, how to figure out where the enemy would build his bunkers, how the enemy mind worked and even how the enemy smelled. I learned that one must think like the enemy in order to defeat him.

Old soldiers have always tried to teach, coach and mentor the young ones. It is a tried and true system that has worked for American forces throughout our military history.

It has also been said that real warriors have a natural instinct to move to the sound of the guns because that is where their comrades are. I still feel that sense of urgency and probably always will.

LINK: Read "My Last War: A Vietnam Veteran's Tour in Iraq" - The story of The C.O.B.R.A. Team

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The above painting is titled "Dear Mr. President." It was completed by artist Ashley Lauren. The painting depicts Charles Grist as an old soldier in Iraq in 2004 and his reflection in the Vietnam wall when he was a much younger soldier in Vietnam. She presented it to Grist in 2011.

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"American Ranger" by Charles M. Grist

I am a retired Army Ranger, a veteran of Vietnam and Operation Iraqi Freedom, and a retired police officer with experience in patrol operations, as a plainclothes street crimes officer, and as a criminal investigations detective.